I did, omorfiá. I pay attention to everything you say.
Logan takes a moment to convince Lucy, who pouts like a little diva, refusing to try Ouzo. He must really want in her pants to put up with that shit. “Are we good?” He unpacks the cards, shuffles, picks one, and smirks, turning it over for us to see. “Everyone drinks.”
“Let me.” Thalia crawls to the table, her perky ass on display as she lines the shot glasses on the table, filling them with one flick of her wrist. “Cheers.”
“Oh-oh... looks like we’re up against a pro,” Jack says, full of awe. “Where did you learn that trick?”
“I used to work the bar for a few months.”
The liquid burns its way down my throat, the sweet taste of anise both pleasant and odd.
Shawn takes the next card, eyes skimming the few lines printed across it. “And here I thought this would be PG-rated. Alright, demonstrate your favorite sexual position on a person of your choice. Fail, and you drink, succeed, and they drink.” His eyes land on Thalia. “Come on, girl. Let’s see what you’re made of.”
She shoos Ares off her lap, not a trace of hesitation or embarrassment on her face. Thalia’s always game; keen to try something new. We’re skydiving next week, and it didn’t take an ounce of work to convince her. I didn’t even need to explain I’ve successfully not died sixty-nine times. Too bad I didn’t join Nico when he trained to be an instructor. I could use a license now because it’d mean Thalia would tandem jump with me, but completing over five-hundred jumps to get qualified wasn’t high on my list back then.
Shawn grips Thalia’s hand, eyes focused, nostrils flaring. He spins her around and shoves her flush—as flush as her big boobs allow—against the patio door, holding her wrists behind her back in one of his hands.
She faces the terrace, thick, dark curls obscuring the profile of her face, but her body language speaks volumes. The way she swallows hard, her eyes hooding over slightly and the blooming shadow of a gasp on her lips betray she likes it rough.
Shawn clasps her hair in one hand and tugs until she exposes her throat. “How about that, babe?” he breathes in her ear, thrusting his hips once. “You’re drinking.”
“Jack?” Thalia murmurs, still in the same position, her voice playfully breathless. “Can I borrow your fiancé for a little while? Half an hour at the most.”
“You’d tap out after two minutes, babe.” Shawn releases her wrists, backing away to fill her shot glass.
I try to erase the last minute from my mind as I would data off a hard drive, but the visual keeps fueling my imagination with images of my body pinning Thalia to the glass. I jerk off every day with her on my mind, but it’s not enough.
I need to go clubbing with Logan and get laid before I do something stupid and run her off.
“Everyone removes all clothes in the color of my choice. Whoever refuses, drinks,” Nico reads, casting a sideways glance around the room. “Let’s go with black.”
“Asshole,” Logan rumbles but strips out of the t-shirt and jeans, all American muscle, flawless like Ken. He heaves an irritated huff when his Barbie shakes her head a firm no, refusing to lose the skirt.
Nico yanks his t-shirt over his head, and so does Jack, but I don’t give a damn about any of them. I’m wearing blue and white, so I stay put, my attention on Thalia. She’s on her feet, hands behind her back, under the navy top, fiddling with the bra clasp.
“You want help with that?” Jack asks, shimmying out of his chinos.
She shakes her head, pulling the straps down her arms. Not even five seconds later, a black lacey bra lands on the armrest of the couch, an inch from my elbow.
Fuck. Me. Dead.
It smells like her perfume and body lotion, the big cups right there in my peripheral vision.
“Panties to match?” Nico questions.
She flips the button on her high-waist jeans, sliding the right side down, pulling on a flimsy white strap of what must be a thong. “Not today.”
Nico checks who did and who didn’t take every black piece of clothing off, then pours the losers their shots.
“Everyone confess how long it’s been since you’ve had sex.” I read, my dick pulsing to remind me it’s been almost two months since it tasted pussy. “Whoever hasn’t seen any action the longest drinks and chooses another person to drink with them.”
“Ah shit.” Thalia snaps on a sigh. “Nineteen months is the one to beat. Anyone?” She crawls to the coffee table to grab the bottle. “No?”
“Nineteenmonths?” Jack exclaims, eyes wide, eyebrows hitting his hairline. “Jesus, you poor thing... I’ve changed my mind. You can have Shawn tonight.”
We laugh when Shawn cringes at the idea of sticking his dick in a woman.
“Why so long?” Lucy speaks my mind, her voice slurring.